Guarded Secrets. Leann Harris

doubt me? You think I wasn’t sincere?”

      “I guess I hadn’t thought—”

      “Littledeer, I’m done,” one of the evidence guys interrupted. “I’ll be sure to check for what you asked.” He moved down the sidewalk to his car.

      “What did you ask him to do?” Lilly asked Jon.

      “To compare the prints he lifted here and at your ex-husband’s apartment. And remember, we’ll need your and Penny’s prints.”

      “You think it was the same person?” Fear tinged her voice.

      He didn’t want to panic her, but she needed to know. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to overlook anything.” She didn’t need to dwell on the fear. “C’mon. Let’s go inside and fix your sliding glass door.”

      “You don’t need—”

      “That’s what cops do, help make the public safe. Now, if you know how to secure that door, I’ll leave it for you.”

      “You win. I have to beg my friend to come over and fix things.” Shaking her head, she confided, “Zoe is one handy lady. She’s working at the local home improvement store while she puts herself through college.”

      “I’m impressed.”

      They walked through the living room and into her bedroom. The lock on the sliding glass door was a simple lever, which opened when turned to the right.

      “It’s not broken,” Lilly said.

      “True, but it’s easily opened. A slim blade here—” he pointed above the lock and motioned downward “—and the intruder’s inside.” He looked around the room, then walked out, thinking he could find what he needed in the kitchen. In the pantry, he found a broom. He brought it back into the bedroom. Holding it up, he asked, “You willing to sacrifice this for your safety?”

      “Yes.”

      He snapped the broom handle over his knee and placed the piece without the bristles in the door’s track. “That will do until you decide what other locking mechanism you want for the door. Zoe will know what other safety measures are out there. Oh, one of the officers secured the sliding glass doors in the living room, but you’ll need to buy new locks for those doors, too.”

      “Thank you.” Turning, she glanced around the room. “At least it’s not as bad as Pete’s.” After a moment, she dashed out of the room.

      He followed her into Penny’s room. It had been ransacked, too.

      “Who did this? And why?” She picked up a stuffed doll and buried her face in the doll’s chest. She’d held it together through the mess at her ex-husband’s apartment and the mess here.

      He moved to her side. “Lilly.”

      She turned into his arms and the dam broke. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other clutched the doll between them. His arms closed around her shoulders. The emotions tumbling around his chest he didn’t want to name, but he knew that feelings he’d thought long dead had come back to life.

      Slowly, the storm of tears and fears faded. She felt safe being held in this man’s strong arms. When he looked at her, she thought she saw something responding to her in those deep brown eyes.

      She wiped away the tear hanging off her chin. She looked and noticed the wet spot on the shirt covering Jon Littledeer’s chest.

      “Oh,” she said, jerking backward. “I’m so sorry.”

      He released her and looked down into her face. “It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot.”

      “I meant messing up your shirt.”

      His gaze moved to his shirt, then back to her face. His lips turned up into the slightest smile. “It’s wash and wear.”

      She couldn’t look at him. “That’s good.” Looking at the doll, she added, “He is, too.” Her gaze roamed the room. “I’ll have to clean this up before Penny gets back. It’s too much for her to handle.”

      She started to put the doll in the toy box. Amazingly, Jon picked up another doll.

      “Detective, you don’t have to do that.”

      “Call me Jon.”

      “But—”

      He glanced down at his shirt. The wet spot seemed to glow in the light. “I don’t allow just anyone to leave wet spots on my shirt.” His smile encouraged her to relax.

      She returned his smile. “Okay.”

      As they worked to put things right in Penny’s room, Jon said, “What do you think your ex-husband meant when he told you his death wouldn’t be an accident?”

      “I don’t know. After our divorce Pete dropped by occasionally. I don’t think anyone knew where he spent most of his time.”

      “You think he was into illegal things?”

      “I don’t know. He never said what he’d been doing or where he’d been.”

      “Do you think he told anyone in his family?”

      “His parents are dead, and I don’t know anyone else in his family.” She closed the final drawer of her daughter’s dresser.

      “You know nothing of his family?”

      “No. When we were in high school, his parents were killed in a car accident. Afterward, he lived with his neighbors until he graduated from high school.” With a sigh, she walked out of Penny’s room. “One down and four more rooms to go.”

      “Let’s tackle that living room. I have more questions to ask.”

      Straightening up wasn’t that bad. It had been a long day and she couldn’t face that mess by herself. The help was a godsend.

      They got to work in the living room, putting the furniture back in place.

      “Tell me about you and Peter,” Jon said after a while.

      “As I told you, I knew Pete in high school. It was during my sophomore year at the University of New Mexico that I ran into him again. He’d transferred from New Mexico Highlands University to UNM. We started dating and fell in love. We married over the Christmas holidays. Around Easter I discovered I was pregnant. When we came home from the university that summer, he told me he didn’t want to be a father and wanted a divorce. He disappeared, never went back to school. Suddenly, marriage was a prison and he couldn’t breathe. I stayed with my parents and went to the community college.”

      She pushed in the last cushion on the couch and sat. “I didn’t understand why he didn’t want our baby. After our divorce I saw him infrequently. Where he’d been or what he’d been doing, I don’t know.” She didn’t want to face those memories. Pushing off the couch, she walked into the kitchen.

      Jon followed her. “What do you know about Peter after he got his life in order?”

      “He started working for a construction company, building roads and bridges here in the state. I think he helped with some bridges in Colorado and Arizona. Sometimes he’d be gone for months at a time, but he’d faithfully call Penny on Mondays and Wednesdays. He’d come home every other week and spend time with her.”

      Jon helped put the scattered cans back into the pantry as she put the kitchen drawers in order. “What was he doing around the time he died?”

      “He’d gone back to school. He’d also started going to church again.” She remembered the happiness that had filled her heart when he’d come to know Jesus. She’d wanted to shout for joy. By then she and Peter had come to love each other as brother and sister.

      “What are you not telling me?” Jon asked, sitting on a stool under the high counter.

      “Are